About Bob Knorpp

Recent Posts by Bob Knorpp

Taking Kites To The Sky In The Heart Of Manhattan

Few childhood memories match the magic and mystery of flying a kite. The way that patch of fabric takes to the wind is fascinating and timeless. Which is why I was so excited to find that the Fashion Center conspired to bring this magic to life in the heart of Manhattan.

The top parking deck of the Port Authority is the size of several football fields set in the midst of skyscrapers and urban grit. And on this first crisp and cool weekend of the Fall, the Fashion Center transformed into a park dedicated to flight.

Hundreds of children and their parents came to Kite Day, to learn about the art of kite making, then test their creations on the gusts of winds that come sweeping in from the Hudson River.

It’s events like this — ones that so creatively use the landscape of the city in new ways — that make living in New York City a constant adventure of discovery. Here are some of my photographic impressions of the party.

 

 

The Defenestration That Saved A Family

Stop and think about this for a moment: The only reason you are alive today is because a series of your ancestors cheated death.

It’s a fascinating thought. But you know it’s true. Just by our own close calls, we know that death could have come to us at any number of times. Which makes Leah’s story of how her family escaped the Nazi genocide all that more fascinating.

Back in the 1930s, Leah’s relatives lived in a small town in western Russia. The family was well-off enough to have a maid, and one night this person was left alone with the baby (the girl who would eventually become Leah’s grandmother).

Now this maid had a boyfriend. He would come by on the street sometimes and the two of them would strike up a conversation out of the window. But on this particular night, charged with watching the infant, the maid got distracted and the babe fell to the floor.

Leah’s great grandmother rushed into the room, startled by the noise, to find the baby on the floor and the maid at the window. So in a rage, this woman rushed on the maid, lifted her and, in classic Russian fashion, defenestrated her. (Apparently throwing people out of windows was popular enough to deserve it’s own name in Russia.)

While the maid was at fault for carelessness, sending the poor woman to the hospital with broken bones was hardly a just punishment for the crime. So the news of what had happened caused quite a scandal. The town wanted justice and Leah’s great grandmother was not going to get away with attempted murder.

In this town, Leah’s great grandfather was an important man. Yet even he couldn’t smooth over the offense. So instead, he pleaded another option. He told the town elders that if they would let his wife go, he would take the entire family from Russia and move to America, never to trouble them again. Some back-room dealing ensued and finally the family made their escape and emigrated.

It was only three months later that the Nazi’s invaded. And in one of the most horrific acts of World War II, the SS made the men dig a mass grave, lined up the entire town in front of it, and murdered every living soul. No one survived.

It’s sobering when you hear stories like this. Good acts, bad acts — in the end it’s not always the quality of one’s behavior that determines living and dying, but forces outside of our control. Normally you would say that the criminal was Leah’s grandmother. But in this case her actions set in motion a series of events that ultimately saved her entire family and three subsequent generations from annihilation by a greater evil. Who is to say what’s right or wrong here?

For me, this is a powerful lesson in acceptance and gratitude. And as the alcoholics say,  “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

A Night In The Dark After Hurricane Irene

The lights were out. Not just in houses. I mean everywhere. The entire city of Morristown, NJ didn’t have a single light on. And as I drove up and parked my car, I realized that I was going to be stuck in this place for a quite a while.

Hurricane Irene packed many surprises. For Morristown, the surprise was that their new state-of-the-art, flood and wind proof underground transformer complex was now an underground lake of flooded equipment. (Can you say, lawsuit?) So with little information and much chaos, the town tried to function without traffic signals, stairwell lights, train service or even basic human needs that we can’t survive without…like the Internet, for example. (Gasp!)

I park my car in Morristown at a friend’s garage adjacent to their apartment complex, to avoid the insane parking costs of Manhattan. And while I have been to this place many times, I can’t recall ever having seen a resident. It always seemed kind of dead to me.

For instance, there is this beautiful courtyard at the building with a Koi pond (conveniently absent of any fish which kind of negates the Koi thing, but whatever), as well as an amazing gas grill system set in stone, with beautiful landscaping all around. Yet it always was empty when I would visit.

So imagine my surprise when I arrived and the courtyard was buzzing. Residents, some of whom had never even met each other before let alone me, were talking over rapidly warming beer, while grilling all the food they could before it spoiled. The camaraderie was infectious. And even though I was a stranger, I was welcomed into the laughter and community. It was amazing!

Now given this beginning, you can see how this story could turn into a heartwarming tale about how people came together in the face of adversity and that we all should turn off our electronics once in a while and sing our communal Kumbayas. Except as the alcohol continued to be consumed, this sense of needing something more to do also began to grow. And then things got a little weird.

As full darkness set in, the laughter increased with a tinge of anger and helplessness. Why was the building so dark? Why weren’t emergency lights working? Why were all the gates flung open for any criminal to walk in?

Then came the furniture burning.

One of the residents decided that we needed a bonfire in the courtyard, which after a bottle of wine and several beers sounded very nice indeed. So he stumbled upstairs and started bringing down his old bedroom furniture, piling it in the center of the courtyard and breaking it apart for kindling, much to our amusement. Then with excessive amounts of lighter fluid and copious coaxing from the crowd, the blaze was aflame.

So, about this time the cops showed up.

Now you would think law enforcement officials would say something to the effect that, “It’s against city ordinance blah blah blah to set an open fire within the city limits.” Instead, these harried protectors of the peace were frantically responding to emergency call after emergency call, one of which had come from this very building. So we got a, “Just be careful with that fire, guys.” and off they went to search the hallways with flashlights.

The seeds of lawlessness had been planted. Even the police were turning their back on the law as they prioritized situations. Anything was possible.

Which is when someone jokingly said, “Shit, let’s go loot stuff.”

We all had a huge laugh at this suggestion. Then we all got real quiet. Then we had another, more nervous laugh about it. Then we got even more quiet. Because suddenly we realized: It really was just that easy.

Whether it’s London’s recent riots or U.S. college kids breaking into shops after a sports team wins, we tend to sit on our civilized high horse and cast judgment on “those animals.” Indeed, I still would still say such behavior is reprehensible. But all of us walk a razor thin line between order and chaos. And coming face-to-face with that line is sobering. Very sobering.

All it takes is one act of lawlessness to get people thinking about what line we should cross next. And then all the law in the world can’t stop the avalanche of chaos that might ensue. The only thing to hold back the tide is the frail decision-making power of stupid, drunk individuals saying, “Nah, I choose order…and pass me another cold one.”

We didn’t go looting that night. Instead, we just relaxed, drank some more cheap wine and enjoyed our illegal open fire. But my night in the dark reminded me of an important fact about society: Laws and governments don’t have the power — people have it. Individual military commanders, politicians, journalists, and even drunk white collar professionals are the real power in structured society. It’s our choices that determine what laws we follow, what laws we challenge and what laws we break.

Do you understand what this means? Do you get it?

This is an awesome responsibility — one that more of us need to take a hell of lot more seriously. Because when we depend on the government too heavily to be our arbiter of conscience, we’re left defenseless if that structure is pulled away. And without an empowered population who are willing to take personal responsibility for following a code of civilized behavior, we face only the chaos that is always ready to sweep us away.

And then where would we buy our beer? Just sayin’.

New Wine Bar Brings The South Of France To 9th Avenue

Finding that right mix of atmosphere, wine, cuisine and staff is a rarity. But La Carafe on 9th Avenue in Manhattan has made a serious play on all four — and comes up a winner.

The brain child of Al Rineh, proprietor of the popular L’Ybane bar and restaurant on 8th avenue, this low-key and pleasant new entry creates all the ambience and flavor of Rineh’s South of France roots. His third property (his first restaurant is a popular destination in Nice), La Carafe offers a casual dining experience that focuses on wine pairing and conversation.

First, you can’t help but be immediately captivated by the charm of the decor. Exposed brick and soft lighting make for a magical experience, while small oil lamps adorn every table throughout the restaurant. The front of the establishment is completely open as well, taking away the usual over-air-conditioned New York restaurant feel, and replacing it with a hint of an open-air cafe. Unfortunately, the location itself backfires on this premise a bit. 9th avenue is a very busy and loud street at all times of the day and night, so the street noise is a bit distracting. But kudos on the effort to create something less typical of the mid-town scene.

The food is not spectacular, but the menu does offer an interesting blend of tastes created more for complimenting the wine. This is not so much a restaurant you go to for a full meal, as much as one where you grab an appetizer over drinks or a light snack with friends. On the three occasions that I ordered food, I enjoyed perfectly sized and reasonably priced dishes that I found delicious and satisfying, including a shrimp beignet dish that was particularly good.

But the reason you go to a wine bar is for the wine, and here La Carafe excels. There is a solid blend of a tastes from around the world, obviously all chosen by an expert sommelier. Every wine that I was allowed to sample was a good entry, but two wine in particular were quite notable.

First, a merlot from Languedoc, France, Domaine Caton, was wonderful and subtle, blending floral hints with a fruity taste. But the

real winner for me was a Malbec from Los Andes, Argentina, called Agua de Piedra. This 2010 vintage is stunningly good with an uncommonly strong oakiness that brings out a deep, rich buttery taste to the typically full-bodied Malbec flavorings.

Finally, I can’t say enough good things about the staff. Unlike many New York restaurants where your waiters are moonlighting actors, the staff here is a multicultural tour de force of professionals, hailing from all over the world. And they know how to have fun, laughing and talking to the patrons, while attentively waiting on their every need.

I’ve been looking for a local hangout that provides a casual, upscale vibe. La Carafe fills that bill and more. This is a definite side trip between clubs or on the way home from the theater, so make time to enjoy what it has to offer.

La Carafe
Wine Bar & Restaurant
653 9th Avenue
New York
212-333-5300

www.lacarafenyc.com

When Cupcakes And Sushi Meet

I would never suggest putting a piece of raw fish on a cupcake. But when my friend Kimmy MacDaniel decided to pursue an entry in a cupcake baking competition, she found inspiration in the most unlikely of sources.

Starting with a much simpler idea she found on the Internet, she gathered together both real and look-a-like items of an Asian-cuisine-inspired meal. Takeout boxes, serving trays, Swedish fish candies — all became part of the creation. And the results are truly stunning.

Each takeout box is filled with cake, then covered in candies and icing “noodles” to simulate Chinese food takeout. The serving tray was then arranged with both negiri and roll-inspired sushi creations that, from a distance look like the real thing, but up close reveal different colored cake for the seaweed rolls and intricate layers of candies, icing and sprinkles.

Obviously she won the competition. Now I just wish she’d send me my own set so I can taste these mouth-watering concoctions!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Cancer Takes Away Our Words

What would you do if your daughter had cancer?

Once you get past the shock and the horror and the sadness, most of us would want our child to know exactly how much we loved her. But not everyone is good with words — or feelings, for that matter. So if you fall into that bucket, what would you do? How would you say it?

My friend, Anita, had cancer. Thankfully it’s been in remission for some time, but she went through most everything that cancer means in this day and age. She had chemotherapy. She had surgery. She lost all her hair. She got sick. She felt fear. But Anita is one of the toughest ladies I know. And with the help of her family and her doctors, she beat the disease.

Yet when she told me this story some years ago as I was first getting to know her, she didn’t dwell on all the bad stuff. She instead talked about so many of the positive moments that had meant the most to her. And she talked mostly about the remodeling of her house with the help of her dad.

Anita’s dad was an immigrant to Canada and blue collar to the core. What he knew was construction — working with his hands and expressing himself in his work. What he didn’t know was communicating feeling with words.

Anita told me about how all through her treatments, she could see the silent helplessness in her dad. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could say. He was a big and strong man. But all his strength could not take away this disease from his daughter.

When the disease was gone, though. Anita began making some very life-affirming choices. One of them was the remodeling of her home.

And this was a language her dad could speak.

She rolled her eyes a bit as she related how her dad took over the project. Nothing was good enough. Everything had to be perfect. Every detail had to be covered and every nuance beautiful. It drove her absolutely crazy. But her smile said it all. And I understood as only a dad could. Her dad had been silenced by her cancer. His love for his daughter was voiceless in its wake. But remodeling her home said everything he wanted to say. And he said it with everything that he had.

Sometimes there are no words for love. Sometimes there is only a hammer and a nail and a light in your eye. And even cancer can’t silence an expression of love this pure.

Anita is currently raising money for cancer research. Please click here, read her appeal and consider making a donation to help find a cure.

Nurse Bettie Makes Burlesque All About Fun

“Want to go to a burlesque show with us?”

I know that burlesque is on the comeback and I shouldn’t have been surprised by the invitation. But the fact that this invite came from a 40-something female friend did take me aback just a bit.

“Burlesque?” I questioned.

“Yeah, meet us at 9pm,” came the reply that tactfully ignored the question mark in my Facebook message.

So with a shrug, I agreed and set up a time and place to meet.

It should be obvious by now that I went into all of this with a great deal of ambivalence. I had no expectations. And that probably served me well, because this was an education experience like few I have ever had.

The venue we arrived at was Nurse Bettie, a postage stamp of a place with barely room to move. I have no architectural drawings, but I would be shocked if the establishment was more than 600 square feet. So we’re talking the tiniest of the tiny bars you’ve ever been in. Now imagine, if you will, close to 80 people (more women than men) packed into that space and you’ll get a feel for both the popularity of what we witnessed, as well as the press of bodies we had to wade through in order to be part of it.

After getting a drink and watching the pre-show go-go dancer entertainment, the corner stage was lit up, people were rearranged to optimize viewing (your six foot five inch writer was asked to stand over by the wall so people behind me could see) and our host Calamity Chang (pretty sure that wasn’t her real name) took the stage to instruct us on how to enjoy the evening.

“I don’t want to see any faces like this,” she said, making her face go vacant in that dead stare men get at strip bars. “This is about fun,” she insisted with a bright smile. “I want to hear shouts. I want to hear laughter.”

And with that, the show began with a whole lot of shouting.

This was classic burlesque in all the best ways. Everyone had a choreographed act with a story to tell. The costumes were elaborate, the dances were fun and the classic burlesque elements of feathers and tassels were present everywhere.

But best of all was this really weird sense of female empowerment. The performers were not creations of plastic surgeons. These were women of all different body types from thin to voluptuous. And no one tried to hide flaws. C-section scars, cellulite and tattoos were badges of honor to flaunt.

The audience could not have been more energized either. The ladies in the crowd were particularly vocal, shouting their catcalls and their encouragements with hoots and hollers.

With so much positive excitement in the room, what started off as a half-hearted acquiescence on my part, became one of the most memorable evenings of my life.

There are many burlesque shows to see and experience in the New York area. But if you find yourself in the Lower East Side, I definitely recommend Nurse Bettie as one of your stops. The show’s are Thursday nights and they start at 10p. So don’t be late.

Nurse Bettie
106 Norfolk Street
Lower East Side
New York, NY

917-434-9072

nursebettieles.com

Balancing Overwhelming Force Against Expertise

The basic equation for marketing has been simple for a very long time: Get a lot of people to pay attention, make what you show them really interesting, then hope that a percentage of them will do what you ask.

It’s all about brute force. It’s all about a numbers game. You play the percentages in a smart way and you’re bound to win at anything. And it’s the perfect analogy for how people tend to solve problems of finesse and relationship with figurative (and literal) nuclear weapons.

I recently wrote a piece over on the Ad Age site about how we marketers are still too in love with mass scale in advertising. I don’t want to rehash the entirety of my argument there. But I do want to talk about one particular comment from a reader.

In agreeing with me, the commenter used the analogy of the military’s renaissance regarding brute force. In his response he explained that the U.S. military for decades had achieved success after success through the use of The Doctrine of Overwhelming Force.  The premise is as simple as the marketing equation: Throw enough bodies at an enemy, equip these soldiers well, and you are bound to win.

The trouble with this tactic is waste. The human toll of such strategies is overwhelming. For instance, while D-Day was a tremendous military victory, it came at the expense of uncounted lives. So the military began exploring new tactics. And from this came an emphasis on special forces — small units of highly specialized and thoroughly trained individuals who could effect the impact desired with minimal casualties through thoughtful and considered action.

This comment really got me thinking. Suddenly I was no longer dealing with the idea of mass vs. targeted marketing or even military strategy, but about something much bigger. I can’t tell you how many times in my life I’ve taken on problems that would have been best dealt with by the use of considered and targeted responses, and instead applied overwhelming force. I can’t tell you how many relationships I’ve damaged and problems I’ve caused by applying the full force of my will and resources to “fixing” things, when listening and planning would have saved us all uncounted hours of pain.

This militaristic analogy that so eloquently put the problem into human terms, helped to emphasize what we all should know by now — that taking the easy route is almost never the best course, whether it be a battle, a marketing program or life as a whole. You can usually win with overwhelming force, but at what cost?

We are called to be experts in life, not to skate by with the minimum. And as experts — specialists — we should know better than to expect true success without bringing our best and most considered approach to every problem in life.

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